Reading Stormbreaker
by Rilin
Summary: When Tom Harris finds seven books, he, Alex, Jack and K Unit read them as they reveal the truth of Alex's missions.


Disclaimer - in no way, shape or form do I own the Alex Rider series or any recognizable characters.

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Alex was sat on his bed when the doorbell rang. It was eight in the morning on a Saturday and he knew that Tom was coming round. Alex had just returned from Australia and MI6 had promised to stay away for a while.

He headed downstairs silently and looked through the peep hole on the door to see four men and a teenage boy. He recognised the teen as his best friend, Tom Harris, and the men as K-Unit, one of the best in the SAS. Sighing he pulled the door open and glared at Tom. "Where did you find them?" he asked the other teen, ignoring the men completely.

"Eagle is my cousin and heard about my best friend and wanted to meet him, one of the others is grumpy and another is Scottish but they both decided to tag along and the last one you know already." Tom chirped.

Alex pulled Tom away and growled. "That's K-Unit, the ones I trained with. I'm lucky they haven't recognised me straight away."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I think one has." Was his only comment before Alex felt an arm fall onto his shoulder. Recognising the person he sighed and didn't attack.

"Ben, would you please get your arm off my shoulder before you have a matching wound."

The rest of the unit looked around before a smile erupted on Eagle's face. "Cub!" he exclaimed.

"Is this where you get your hyperactive tendencies?" Alex asked Tom, once again ignoring the unit.

Tom ignored his best friend and pulled a pile of books from his bag. "I saw these in a bookshop and realised what they are. I went home after I bought them and met this lot, who all decided to come with me to see you."

Alex took the books and looked over the titles. He read them out quietly, but everyone still heard him. "Stormbreaker, Point Blanc, Skeleton Key, Eagle Strike, Scorpia, Ark Angel and Snakehead." He had seen everyone flinch at Scorpia and only Ben flinched at Snakehead.

"Why the fuck have they released these? It's all meant to be secret!"

"I think we should read them, also language Alex." Jack called from the kitchen. She had heard all of the conversation but only now did she leave the room she was in.

Alex sighed but relented when he was faced with puppy eyes from Tom and, creepily, Eagle. They all settled in the living room and Alex picked up the first book and started reading.

**When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it's never good news. Alex Rider was woken by the first chime. His eyes flickered open but for a moment he stayed completely still in his bed, lying on his back with his head resting on the pillow. He heard a bedroom door open and a creak of wood as somebody went downstairs.**

"Is that all I am to you? Somebody!" Jack asked, looking affronted. Alex chuckled at her but didn't say anything.

**The bell rang a second time and he looked at the alarm clock glowing beside him. 3.02 a.m. There was a rattle as someone slid the security chain off the door.**

"And now I'm someone." Jack huffed. Everyone could tell she was only joking.

**He rolled out of bed and walked over to the open window, his bare feet pressing down the carpet pile. The moonlight spilled onto his chest and shoulders. Alex was fourteen,**

The whole of K Unit froze. They had never been told Alex's age or his real name. They only knew him as Cub.

"You're only fourteen!" Eagle yelped.

Alex nodded and looked over at Tom. "Please can you control your cousin?"

**Already well-built, with the body of an athlete. His hair, cut short apart from two thick strands hanging over his forehead, was fair. His eyes were brown and serious. For a moment he stood silently, half hidden in the shadow, looking out. There was a police car parked outside. From his second-floor window Alex could see the black ID number on the roof and the caps of the two men who were standing in front of the door. The porch light went on and, at the same time, the door opened.**

"**Mrs Rider?"**

"**No. I'm the housekeeper. What is it? What's happened?"**

"**This is the home of Mr Ian Rider?"**

"**Yes."**

"**I wonder if we could come in…"**

"I didn't know you heard that Alex. I thought you were still asleep." Jack muttered to her ward.

**And Alex already knew. He knew from the way the police stood there, awkward and unhappy. But he also knew from the tone of their voices. Funeral voices… that was how he would describe them later. The sort of voices people use when they come to tell you that someone close to you has died.**

**He went to his door and opened it. He could hear the two policemen talking down in the hall, but only some of the words reached him.**

Tom poked his best friend in the side. "Spying on people even then, you fiend."

"… **a car accident … called the ambulance … intensive care … nothing anyone could do … so sorry."**

**It was only hours later, sitting in the kitchen, watching as the grey light of morning bled slowly through the west London streets, that Alex could try to make sense of what had happened. His uncle – Ian Rider – was dead. Driving home, his car had been hit by a lorry at Old Street roundabout and he had been killed almost instantly. He hadn't been wearing a seat-belt, the police said. Otherwise, he might have had a chance.**

Alex snorted, earning glances from everyone. He hadn't told anyone how his uncle had actually died.

**Alex thought of the man who had been his only relation for as long as he could remember.**

"Alex, why didn't you correct us at Brecon Beacons? We didn't know that, otherwise we would have shut up about it." Ben asked.

Alex shrugged. "You hardly talked to me. It was fine."

**He had never known his own parents. They had died in an accident, that one a plane crash, a few weeks after he had been born.**

He growled slightly, not realising that everyone glanced at him. That one sentence brought up the subject of Ash and his betrayal. They would find that out in Snakehead.

**He had been brought up by his father's brother (never 'uncle' – Ian Rider had hated that word) and had spent most of his fourteen years in the same terraced house in Chelsea, London, between the King's Road and the river. But it was only now Alex realised just how little he knew about the man.**

**A banker. People said that Alex looked quite like him. Ian Rider was always travelling. A quiet, private man who liked good wine, classical music and books. Who didn't seem to have any girlfriends … in fact he didn't have any friends at all. He had kept himself fit, had never smoked and had dressed expensively. But that wasn't enough. That wasn't a picture of a life. It was only a thumbnail sketch.**

"**Are you alright, Alex?" A young woman had come into the room. She was in her late twenties, with a sprawl of red hair and a round, boyish face. Jack Starbright was American. She had come to London as a student seven years ago, rented a room in the house – in return for light housework and baby-sitting duties – and had stayed on to become housekeeper and one of Alex's closest friends.**

"Thanks for the nice description Alex. I wonder how everyone else is going to be described." Jack stated, grinning at the blonde teen. She knew that Alex wouldn't like the contents of the books, what with them being about his missions, so she was trying to cheer him up now.

**Sometimes he wondered what the Jack was short for. Jackie? Jacqueline? Neither of them suited her and although he had once asked, she had never said.**

"And she never will." Alex and Tom exclaimed in unison. The adults looked at each other before Jack sighed.

"Sometimes they act like they're twins. It's quite creepy actually." She explained.

**Alex nodded. "What do you think will happen?" he asked.**

"**What do you mean?"**

"**To the house. To me. To you."**

"**I don't know." She shrugged. "I guess Ian will have made a will. He'll have left instructions."**

"**Maybe we should look in his office."**

"**Yes. But not today, Alex. Let's take it one step at a time."**

'_We should have looked then._' Alex thought to himself.

**Ian's office was a room running the full length of the house, high up at the top. It was the only room that was always locked – Alex had only been in there three or four times, never on his own. When he was younger, he had fantasized that there might be something strange up there; a time machine, or a UFO. But it was only an office with a desk, a couple of filing cabinets, shelves full of papers and books. Bank stuff – that's what Ian said. Even so, Alex wanted to go up there now. Because it had never been allowed.**

"**The police said he wasn't wearing his seat-belt." Alex turned to look at Jack.**

**She nodded. "Yes. That's what they said."**

"**Doesn't that seem strange to you? You know how careful he was. He always wore his seat-belt. He wouldn't even drive me around the corner without making me put mine on."**

**Jack though for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, it's strange," she said. "But that must have been the way it was. Why would the police have lied?"**

"I take that back now. Of course the police lie. They're sometimes as bad as the government."

**The day dragged on. Alex hadn't gone to school even though, secretly, he had wanted to. He would have preferred to escape back into normal life – the clang of the bell, the crowds of familiar faces – instead of sitting there, trapped inside the house. But he had to be there for the visitors who came throughout the morning and the rest of the afternoon.**

**There were five of them. A solicitor who knew nothing about a will, but seemed to have been charged with organising the funeral. A funeral director who had been recommended by the solicitor. A vicar – tall, elderly – who seemed disappointed that Alex didn't look more upset. A neighbour from across the road – how did she even know that anyone had died? And finally a man from the bank.**

"Ah yes, 'the bank'!" Ben murmured. He knew that place well.

"**All of us at the Royal & General are deeply shocked," he said. He was in his thirties, wearing a polyester suit with a Marks & Spencer tie. He had the sort of face you forgot even while you were looking at it, and had introduced himself as Crawley, from Personnel. "But if there's anything we can do…"**

"**What will happen?" Alex asked for the second time that day.**

"**You don't have to worry," Crawley said. "The bank will take care of everything. That's my job. You leave everything to me."**

**The day passed. Alex killed a couple of hours in the evening playing his Nintendo 64 – and then felt vaguely guilty when Jack caught him at it. But what else was he to do? Later on she took him to a Burger King. He was glad to get out of the house, but the two of them barely spoke. Alex assumed Jack would have to go back to America. She certainly couldn't stay in London for ever. So who would look after him? By law, he was still too young to look after himself. His whole future looked so uncertain that he preferred not to talk about it. He preferred not to talk at all.**

**And then the day of the funeral arrived and Alex found himself dressed in a dark jacket, preparing to leave in a black car that had come from nowhere, surrounded by people he had never met. Ian Rider was buried in the Brompton Cemetery on the Fulham Road, just in the shadow of Chelsea football ground, and Alex knew where he would have preferred to be on that Wednesday afternoon.**

"I know where it would have been! The cemetery because who would want to be in the Chelsea football ground?" Eagle crowed. Alex, Tom and Snake glared at him, all being supporters of Chelsea.

**About thirty people had turned up but he hardly recognised any of them. A grave had been dug close to the lane that ran the length of the cemetery and as the service began, a black Rolls-Royce drew up, the back door opened and a man got out. Alex watched him as he walked forward and stopped. Overhead, a plane coming in to land at Heathrow momentarily blotted out the sun. Alex shivered. There was something about the new arrival that made his skin crawl.**

**And yet the man was ordinary to look at. Grey suit, grey hair, grey lips and grey eyes. His face was expressionless, the eyes behind the square, gunmetal spectacles completely empty. Perhaps that was what disturbed Alex. Whoever this man was, he seemed to have less life than anyone in the cemetery. Above or below ground.**

Ben snorted involuntarily. He was the only other person to have met Alan Blunt. Alex snickered at his own thought and looked at Ben. "I still think that." He muttered before continuing to read.

**Someone tapped Alex on the shoulder and he turned round to see Crawley leaning over him. "That's Mr Blunt," the personnel manager whispered. "He's the chairman of the bank."**

**Alex's eyes travelled past Blunt and over to the Rolls-Royce. Two more men had come with him, one of them the driver. They were wearing identical suits and, although it wasn't a particularly bright day, sunglasses. Both of them were watching the funeral with the same grim faces. Alex looked from them to Blunt and then to the other people who had come to the cemetery. Had they really known Ian Rider? Why had he never met any of them before? And why did he find it so difficult to believe that any of them really worked for a bank?**

"Because they don't?" Wolf suggested lazily. As soon as he had seen Cub, he thought he wasn't going to enjoy the day but he actually was. Cub's story seemed quite interesting, although he knew he wouldn't enjoy the chapters at Brecon Beacons. He wouldn't be surprised if Jack hit them all.

"… **a good man, a patriotic man. He will be missed."**

**The vicar had finished his grave-side address. His choice of words struck Alex as odd. Patriotic? That meant he loved his country. But as far as Alex knew, Ian Rider had barely spent any time in it. Certainly he had never been one for waving the Union Jack. He looked round, hoping to find Jack, but saw instead that Blunt was making his way towards him, stepping carefully around the grave.**

"**You must be Alex." The chairman was only a little taller than him. Close to, his skin seemed strangely unreal. It could have been made of plastic. "My name is Alan Blunt," he said. "Your uncle often spoke about you."**

"**That's funny," Alex said. "He never mentioned you."**

"Did you seriously just say that to Alan Blunt? The head of MI6? Man with no sense of humour?" Ben asked incredulously, staring at the younger agent. Alex nodded, meeting his eyes. Ben was surprised to see some lightness back in his eyes. When they met in Australia they were haunted and he was slightly afraid to hear why they would have been like that.

In the halls of MI6 the Riders were famous. Every new agent was informed of the Rider family, of John's deep cover in Scorpia and of the fact that the two brothers worked together so well. Alex was something of a legend, with most agents not believing he existed. Ben was the only agent to have ever worked with him from that organisation, although they knew there were others across the world.

**The grey lips twitched briefly.**

"I stand corrected." Ben muttered, seeing Alex smirk out the corner of his eyes.

"**We'll miss him. He was a good man."**

"**What was he good at?" Alex asked. "He never talked about his work."**

**Suddenly Crawley was there. "Your uncle was Overseas Finance Manager, Alex," he said. "He was responsible for our foreign branches. You must have known that."**

"**I know he travelled a lot," Alex said. "And I know he was very careful. About things like seat-belts."**

"**Well, sadly he wasn't careful enough." Blunt's eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his spectacles, lasered into his own and for a moment Alex felt himself pinned down, like an insect under a microscope. "I hope we'll meet again," Blunt went on. He tapped the side of his face with a single grey finger. "Yes…" Then he turned and went back to his car.**

"Knowing his reputation, he'll arrange for the two to meet again." Snake murmured, leaning back into the chair.

**It was as he was getting into the Rolls-Royce that it happened. The driver leaned across to open the door and his jacket fell open, revealing the shirt underneath.**

"Well, that was a mistake with Alex there. Even then he had a good eye for details. Now it's gotten to the point where nothing can slip past him." Tom exclaimed from where he was leant against the chair Alex was sat in.

**And not just the shirt. The man was wearing a leather holster with an automatic pistol strapped inside. Alex saw it even as the man, realising what had happened, quickly straightened up and pulled the jacket across his chest. Blunt had seen it too. He turned back and looked again at Alex. Something very close to an emotion slithered over his face. Then he got into the car, the door closed and he was gone.**

**A gun at a funeral. Why? Why would bank managers carry guns?**

"**Let's get out of here." Suddenly Jack was at his side. "Cemeteries give me the creeps."**

"**Yes. And quite a few creeps have turned up." Alex muttered.**

"Why didn't you let this sense of humour out at camp Cub? It would have been hilarious to see Wolf's face!" Eagle crowed. Alex stared at the man. He could clearly see similarities between Eagle and Tom.

**They slipped away quietly and went home. The car that had taken them to the funeral was still waiting but they preferred the open air. The walk took them fifteen minutes. As they turned the corner into their street, Alex noticed a removals van parked in front of the house, the words STRYKER & SON painted on its side.**

"**What's that doing…?" he began.**

**At the same moment the van shot off, its wheels skidding over the surface of the road.**

**Alex said nothing as Jack unlocked the door and let them in, but while she went into the kitchen to make some tea, he looked quickly round the house. A letter that had been on the hall table now lay on the carpet. A door that had been half-open was now closed. Tiny details, but Alex's eyes missed nothing. Somebody had been in the house. He was almost sure of it.**

"Good instincts Cub. Most people wouldn't have spotted that." Wolf praised, not noticing the mock faces of shock and awe on his unit.

"Fox, get the camera, Wolf is praising someone without a horrific scowl on his face or being forced to by the Sergeant!" Snake cried out.

**But he wasn't certain until he got to the top floor. The door o the office which had always, always been locked, was unlocked now. Alex opened it and went in. the room was empty. Ian Rider had gone and so had everything else. The desk drawers, the cupboards, the shelves … anything that might have told him about the dead man's work had been taken.**

"**Alex…!" Jack was calling to him from downstairs. Alex took one last look around the forbidden room, wondering again about the man who had once worked there. Then he closed the door and went back down.**

"Well that's the end of the chapter." Alex announced. Tom promptly stole the book from the other teen and turned to the next page. Jack stood from the settee and entered the kitchen, quickly returning with a plate of snacks and a tray of drinks. She placed them on the coffee table and sat back down.

"Go on then Tom. Read the next chapter." She said.

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There we go, the first chapter of Reading Stormbreaker. I've noticed that not many people have done this for the Alex Rider books so I thought might as well. Also this is set just after Snakehead but before Crocodile Tears and Scorpia Rising.


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